Jordan waves it away. “It’s fine. I’ve been guilty too. But like I said, it’s when the sex is that good, and you’ve always been understanding.” She winks and I laugh. “Anyway, moving on. So those are your relationship insights. What’s up on the career front?”
“That’s just as grim. I’ve heard nada from the recruiters, but then I haven’t exactly contacted them either. After drinks with Suzy, I know what the rumor is and I know I should do something about it, but I’m also reconsidering my career. I can’t really say public relations was a career choice so much as it was my first job and I just never gave it much thought after that.”
“And one you’re really good at,” Jordan adds.
“Maybe. But if I was so good at it, I wouldn’t have gotten fired.”
“Oh, come on. You know you were sabotaged. You just need to find out the who and the how.”
“Right. And that’s still on my to-do list.” I sigh. “But in the meantime, I’m reading this career advice book. It even has quizzes.” I smile, trying to lighten the mood.
“Quizzes? Do tell.”
“Other than general questions of whether you’re happy or not at work—’cause let’s face it, you’re not happy if you’re reading this book—it asks you to think about what attracted you to your job in the first place, what do you look forward to when you go to work, etcetera.”
“What did you come up with?”
“I really liked the paycheck.”
“Ah. Golden handcuffs.” Jordan nods sympathetically.
“Also, getting dressed every day and having somewhere to go with a purpose was nice. You really miss it when it’s gone. But I think my favorite parts were coming up with community outreach programs, and I liked when there were kids involved. There was always this feel-good factor and, I don’t know, it just felt more like I was actually doing something.”
“Yeah. You were like that in college too. So what’s the plan then? Are you joining the Peace Corps? Going off to build houses for Habitat for Humanity? Something with orphans in Africa?”
“Not so fast.” I hold up an unsteady finger to make an important point. “And I warn you this is the ugly part. The other realization was that I like doing good so long as I can still afford my highlights and my nice, door-manned condo.”
Jordan barks out a laugh and clinks her glass against mine on the table. “To thine own self be true.”
“Ha!” I giggle. “So basically that means that I need another corporate job. Probably another accounts manager job either at an advertising, marketing, PR firm or maybe in-house for a company. Pretty much the same old, same old.”
“That’s not much of a reinvention plan.”
“Yeah, well. It’s not like I hated my job.”
“True. You never really complained other than the general work grind gripes; unlike me, who complains every waking moment.” I raise a don’t-I-know-it eyebrow at her. In response, she rolls her eyes at me and says, “Sorry, but litigation sucks. You work for unhappy clients who are either suing or being sued, which makes everyone at work unhappy and under pressure. And at the end of the day, it’s just all about the money. Nobody’s saving lives here.”
“Maybe you should go in-house? Isn’t that the lawyer dream?”
“And be bored out of my mind? Hell, no. Also, then what would I have to complain about? Or more like, what would I have to talk about? And then all the extra free time in my life? I’d have to come up with a new excuse for not working out, or find a hobby … like knitting or something.” She shudders.
“Ha-ha. So you’ll keep your high-pressured job that’s pretty much killing you, and I’ll continue to look for a job in a field that doesn’t excite me but doesn’t annoy me either.” I nod mock sagely. “I think we’ve made a lot of progress here tonight and deserve a third round.”
Jordan mock nods along with me. “Agreed. And I think we also deserve some dinner to soak up some of this ‘insight.’” She taps her glass referring to its contents. “Nothing like a couple of drinks to make everything seem much clearer.”
While meeting friends for drinks over the weekend isn’t exactly a new activity for me, the amount of alcohol consumed has been. But I still stick to my Saturday-long-run-morning schedule and head to Lincoln Park to ruminate on last night’s conversation with Jordan. Even though I want to think about my future, my mind this morning is on Neil. I didn’t need Jordan to point out that perhaps I smother my relationships a bit. Last night’s more sobering truth was that I pretty much give up who I am in order to keep a relationship.
Although I’m out here doing my long run—a generous term since it’s mostly walking interspersed with some light jogging—the last event I trained for was the Chicago marathon four years ago. I had just met Neil and had already signed up for the marathon as I did every year. During that first year of dating, those Saturday mornings were rough. I didn’t completely abandon them since I had already committed to the race, but I did take a couple training shortcuts, such as missing a long run here and there with the intention of rescheduling it during the week, which never happened. But I’d run the marathon before, so I felt confident I’d be able to do it again. On race day, when my knees started hurting around mile seventeen, I blamed it on my now thirty-something knees. While maybe a little of that factored in, the truth was that I had slacked off on my training and was paying the price.
Being that it was our first year together and we were newly in love, when Neil met me at the finish line, I could see the pride beaming from his eyes as he kept saying, “You did it! You really did it!” But the next year when I signed up and got tendonitis early on in training, I decided to drop out. Even though it had been great to see Neil happy for me at the end, overall I felt like I had inconvenienced him. I had made him get up with me at an ungodly hour to make sure I got to my start corral early. Later he admitted how frustrated he got jumping on the El trying to see me at the various mile markers, and then finding it too crowded and never being sure if he was too early or if he just missed me. So finally he gave up and decided to wait at the finish line for three hours. When I dropped out the following year, it was nice having my weekend mornings back. Plus, I could drink again on Friday nights and stay out later. Then later on, I used the excuses of work, moving in together, and the engagement to stop doing something that was a huge part of who I was. Wait, was? Am!
With some newfound determination, I find the energy to break my sad jogging into actual running on the way home. Since it’s already May, the Chicago marathon in October is sold out, but perhaps I can find a half-marathon coming up. Better yet, maybe I can find one I can travel to. Perhaps I should be using this enforced time off to take a trip. Maybe I can even convince Jordan to go with me. These thoughts spur me into a sprint. I can’t wait to get onto my computer to start researching races and trips.
THE CAULDRON IS bustling this afternoon, as I guess others in the neighborhood have discovered it now too. After assessing the line when I walk in, I spot an empty table near the window and set myself up at it before ordering. I do the “will you watch my stuff” exchange with the guy at the next table over who smiles and says, “Of course.” The interaction immediately makes me self-conscious. After being in a relationship for five years and with a ring on my finger for the last six months, what would normally pass as friendly chitchat between strangers now makes me unsure. Lately, every communication with a single man my age is fraught with am I flirting anxiety. I know I need to get over myself and hope this phase passes soon.